


Radioactive

by CrazyPinkPenguin



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 'Cause that's how I roll, And probably kinky, F/M, Very graphic, Will contain awesome sexy time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyPinkPenguin/pseuds/CrazyPinkPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Elisha first met Rick Grimes, she never expected to become his bed buddy during the Walker apocalypse while attempting (and failing) to keep her true feelings hidden because he "Couldn't give her more". But then again, she hadn't expected the dead to rise either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knight in shining blood soaked boots.

"Come on out, girl," the man's gruff and irritated voice calls out. "If I don't get ya, the Infected will, and believe me when I say I'll be more gentle than them." he cackles evilly before breaking off into a coughing fit.

Elisha bites into her bottom lip hard as she crawls on her hands and knees quickly to the next car in front of her. It was a red three seater, she wasn't sure which make or model, and had been abandoned like all the other cars on the stretch of road she was on.

As soon as she reaches it she leans back against it, ignoring the items in the bag on her back which dig into her skin. She was getting tired now, having been doing this for the past twenty minutes without a break.

She wasn't entirely sure what the man wanted. He'd approached her while she'd been searching through cars - the ones which hadn't been overturned or crashed – and had started yelling at her, accusing her of stealing his tinned peas.

At that point he'd been standing pretty close and she'd noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath. Yeah, apparently not even zombies stopped addictions. She guessed that some things were more important than living to some people. Which she could understand if he'd lost someone. Maybe a wife, brother, or even kids.

But  _no_. This guy was angry over a lost tin of peas which he thought  _she'd_  stolen.

After she'd politely (okay, not really) told him to ' _fuck off, piss head'_  he'd pulled a hammer out of the back of his pants and attempted to chase after her.

_Attempted_  because as soon as his foot went forward and his top lip curled into a snarl, he lost his balance and fell flat on his face.

Elisha had then walked away from the forty-odd year old man with grey hair (which was balding at the front) at that point, deciding that it was better than waiting around for his drunken attempts at killing her.

But he didn't give up easily and as soon as he managed to get back to his feet, he pulled out an object which looked worrying like a handgun. She had absolutely no idea where he could have gotten such a weapon and for a moment, questioned whether or not she was seeing things but then he aimed it at her with a wobbly arm and she'd instinctively jumped behind the first vehicle she'd come across.

"Come on girl, I just want my food back!" the man shouts out way louder than he should in a world where the living dead were around every corner.

Elisha knows that the sound will, without a doubt, bring the Infected down onto them. It was a matter of  _when_. With her lip still trapped in her teeth, she turns and slowly sits herself up on her knees, peeking over the bonnet of the car which was hiding her.

Her heart jumps when she sees just how close he was to her. Only a few cars down and one car over. All he has to do it switch lanes and he'd find her.

So she goes back to crawling.

She turns left into the next lane, the gravel digging into her hands and knees. She wouldn't be surprised if her palms were bleeding by now, and surely her dark blue jeans which already had three holes in them, had two more at the knees.

Once she was a lane over, she begins crawling forward. She passes three cars but she didn't pay any attention to them. Her gaze remains on the ground as she attempts to even out her breathing. It sounds so loud to her own ears and she's worried he will be able to hear it.

And then a pair of blood stained cowboy boots appear in front of her, causing her heart to jump into her throat once more.

Before she looks up at the owner, she already knows they aren't an Infected. They weren't groaning and gasping for air, they also didn't smell like a rotted, walking piece of flesh, and if it had been an Infected, she would have been its meal by now.

Which means she's just walked – well, more like  _crawled_  – straight into a living person. A man, she guesses, from the size of the dirty boots on his feet.

She gulps, blinks, and takes a deep breath before slowly moving her gaze upwards.

His pants are the black, many shades darker than her own and with double the amount of rips and tears. They're worn, most likely the only pair he really owns because at the end of the world, clothes shopping is  _far_  from important.

Which means it isn't the crazy drunk guy because he'd been wearing a pair of brown chinos. So who the hell had decided to join in?

As her gaze moves even higher, she tries to ignore the very obvious...er,  _snake_  in his trousers. Whoever this guy was, he was certainly packing some heat, and she wasn't talking about his weapons.

Although... speaking of weapons, he has some kind of make-shift knife holder attached to a large dark, leather belt. It hung from the right side of his hip, and on the other side of his hip was a similar holder but it was a different style from the other one, and it was empty.

With a throat which was feeling rather dry, she continues her journey and forces her gaze even higher. A dirty, blood splattered, greeny-brown coloured shirt hung from his lean frame, sleeves rolled up to the elbow revealing tanned, dirt-stained arms.

She bites her tongue and moves her eyes up further. A few buttons of his shirt was undone, showing her a slightly hairy chest which she couldn't help but linger on. Black straps wrapped around his broad shoulders and under his arm from the backpack he carried.

For some reason, she found herself holding her breath as her gaze finally reaches his face.

_Oh my._

Just because it was the end of the world, and just because she was in the process of being chased by a crazy old guy who thinks she stole his tinned peas, didn't mean she wasn't a female who didn't appreciate a  _very_ good looking male.

He has a strong jaw with bow shaped lips, a masculine nose and slightly visible cheek bones. His eyes are bright blue, a colour so bright she was almost sure they were contacts.

His hair is long and dark brown, or maybe black? She couldn't be sure. The style was messy, looking as if he spent a good part of his day running his fingers through it. It fell just above his eyebrows, most likely from lack of a hairdresser than a style choice. It was also slightly curly; adorable, in her opinion.

To sum it up, he was extremely good looking, not exactly muscular but toned and fit, and around forty years old with facial hair she wouldn't mind rubbing against the inside of her thighs. Heh.

For four heartbeats, she just gazes up at him, wondering whether or not he was an angel, or maybe the devil in disguise.

He raises his eyebrows at her, the expression on his face a cocktail of amusement, agitation and confusion.

Elisha closes her mouth, only just realising now that she'd been catching flies, and licks her lips before her mouth parts once more in an attempt to greet him. Would a casual  _'hello'_  work?

But before she can utter a word, he's reaching down with a strong arm and he's gripping her left biceps in his long fingers, and then he's forcing her into a stand.

She panics briefly, knowing that they were now visible to the drunken guy but her new 'friend' doesn't seem bothered by it. Fear washes over her - could they be together?

She glances over her shoulder, trying to ignore the tight grip which remains on her arm, but instead of seeing the old drunk guy, her eyes take in the white paint of a large van which was hiding her and her companion from view.

Licking her cracked lips, she turns her head forward and her eyes connect with the man in front of her. "Are you with him?" are the first words she says to him.

He seems to ignore her question. "Put your hands on your head." was his response, his voice deep and dangerous with a slight southern twang.

She knew it wasn't a suggestion; it was an order, and if she hadn't spotted the python dangling from his spare hand, slightly hidden behind his leg, she  _might_ have disobeyed.

_Am I the only person without a gun?_  She wonders to herself as she brings up her arms and entwines her fingers together behind her messy, sandy brown hair. At some point she must have lost her hair-band which meant her long hair was now dangling just above her breasts.

Elisha tries not to panic as the man takes a step forward, moves his hand from her arm and begins to pat her down with it. She holds her breath when his hand slips under the material of her unzipped, plain black jacket, and accidentally brushes against the side of her right breast.

If he noticed her reaction, it didn't show on his face. His hand slides down her side, to her jeans where he feels around her pockets and down the outside her leg, forcing him to bend down in order to reach.

He searches her ankle, making sure there wasn't any hidden weapons in her flat, worn, black boots or mismatching stripy socks before sliding his hand up the inside of her leg.

She tries to ignore the warmth of his palm as he reaches the inside of her thigh. Now is  _not_  the time to want him to slide it higher. "So," she clears her throat awkwardly as he removes his hand from her and she's left feeling strangely unsatisfied. It really must have been a  _long_  time since she'd been with a man if she was getting thrills from a pat-down. "What's your name?"

He ignores her question once more and passes his python to his other hand before he repeats his previous actions on her, but this time with his left hand.

Elisha sighs and glances over her shoulder again. The dusty white van in the way meant she couldn't see whether or not the drunken man was still around. She could no longer hear him which could mean a few different things.

He could have given up and left, or the man currently patting her down for weapons could be his companion and now that she was caught, he no longer had to search for her. Or maybe he'd been eaten by some Infected, but she doubted she was that lucky.

She jumps suddenly and turns back around when she feels the mystery man's hand brush against her backside. It wasn't a perverted caress, or an attempt to crop a feel, he was simply searching her back pockets for any kind of weapon.

When his hand reaches the bottom of her back, she gives him a sheepish smile, and he pulls out a long piece of metal with a sharp tip which she'd had tucked into the back of her trousers. She had no idea what it actually was; it had most likely broken off of something bigger but it got the job done.

He holds it in his hand and examines it with an unreadable expression before tucking it into the back of his own jeans. She can't help but scowl at him – he'd better give that back when he was finished.

His hand then returns to her once more, this time searching around the left side of her hip before sliding up her side and brushing against her left breast. Not having found any other weapons, he does a quick search of the deep pockets in her black jacket before gesturing to the bag on her back.

"Give it."

She lowers her arms before sliding them out of the straps of her old, blue bag and holding it out to him. "Are you robbing me?" she couldn't help but ask. She'd be pretty pissed if he was but with that shotgun on his person, there wasn't much she could do about it.

He places his weapon into the empty holster on his hip before snatching the bag off of her. He flips the flap off of the top before he pulls the drawstrings open and places his hand inside. "No." he answers her eventually.

Well that was something, she guessed. As she watches him searching through her belongings, she nibbles on the inside of her cheek impatiently. She just wants to get out of here, away from the crazy drunk guy, and the guy who oozed sex.

Although she can't help but admire him while he's distracted. His legs were parted, stance wide with high shoulders. Everything about him seems to demand respect, and scream confidence. She finds it pretty intimidating... And a turn on.

Christ, she really needs to find a vibrator on her next run.

When he's finished, he passes the bag back to her. "With who?" he questions out of the blue.

Elisha glances up at him as she ties the strings on her bag up. He was taller than her, probably around six-foot-something which made him just over a foot taller than her short-arse. "What?" she asks back, wondering what the hell he was on about.

He rolls his eyes, showing his frustration. "Earlier you asked me if I was with 'him'. With who?" he explains before repeating his question.

Her eyes widen slightly and she glances behind her once more. For a moment she'd forgotten how she was running (well  _crawling_ ) for her life. "This guy was after me. He had a gun." she tells him honestly before slipping the bag onto her back and walking over to the rear end of the van where she peeks around the corner, trying to spot the old man.

Elisha saw him immediately; he was passed out on the back of an old, paint chipped, blue pick-up truck. He was two lanes away and the only reason she knew it was him was because of the brown chino covered legs sticking out from the back of the truck.

"Oh." was the only thing she could think of saying.

The mystery man behind her approaches and stops just short of touching her. She could feel the heat which came from his body like a radiator, and she knew he'd seen what she'd been looking at because he started to chuckle.

"Him? Really?" he sounds as if he cannot believe the passed out man could be much of a threat, and Elisha couldn't really argue with him.

"Shut up," she responds weakly, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "He... he had a gun."

The mystery man passes her and dodges the cars as he approaches the passed out guy. Elisha can't help herself and she finds herself following him.

When they reach the drunk-fuck, the mystery guy bends down and picks up the drunken guy's weapon where it laid forgotten on the floor beside the truck. He holds the handle between his thumb and forefinger and Elisha quickly realises that something was off – the 'gun' looks  _way_  too light.  _So_  light that when the wind blows, it sways between the man's fingers.

She sucks her lips into her mouth before releasing them and muttering: "It's a toy gun."

The man chuckles once more. It was quiet just like his last laugh, almost as if he was trying to hold it in but was unable stop himself.

"It's a toy gun." he repeats her words with much amusement before throwing the plastic toy back onto the ground.

"I couldn't tell from the distance!" she attempts to defend herself. "It looked real, and I've never seen one before so how was I supposed to know it wasn't!"

The drunken man in the truck rolls onto his back, most likely disturbed by the volume of her voice, before he begins to mumble something about peas in his sleep.

Mystery guy shakes in head in response before he turns and heads back the way he came.

Elisha froze for a moment, glancing between his retreating form and the passed out drunk guy. Realising very quickly that she didn't want to be left alone with the alcoholic (the gun might be fake but the hammer was  _not_ ), she heads after the hunk.

"Hey, wait up!" she calls out to him as she jogs to catch up. Dodging the cars wasn't easy because of her speed and she ends up smacking her shin into the corner of a red convertible. "Ouch. Dammit." she curses while attempting to walk and rub her sore leg.

" _Please_." she begs when she realises that he's getting further away and is about to disappear into the forest on the side of the road.

He stops, pauses for a moment, and then his broad shoulders sag slightly as he makes his decision. He turns around with an impatient expression.

"What?" he barks at her, all humour from the moments before gone.

She also stops, the hand on her injured leg moving as she straightens her back. She was still standing in the road with cars surrounding her while he was waiting on the grass, ready to disappear just as quickly as he arrived.

Elisha wasn't entirely sure  _why_  she was following him and wanting him to wait for her. He owed her nothing and had no obligation to her  _at all,_  so why had she stopped him in his tracks?

"Well?" he pushes when she didn't respond.

"Are you alone?" she says finally.

He sighs, looking as if he could predict the direction the conversation was heading. "Does it look like there is anyone with me?" is his response, and although he tries to hide it, there is pain behind his words.

Elisha shifts on her feet awkwardly. "I'm alone as well."

"That's not my problem, honey." he tells her firmly.

A fluttering appears in her belly at the pet name and she tries her hardest to ignore it; it didn't mean anything. She figures it's a normal reaction to an attractive man using a form of endearment.

Knowing he probably wasn't going to budge, she decides to drop it. She wasn't sure travelling with him would be a good idea anyway.

"What's your name?" If they were going their separate ways, she at least wanted something to call him by.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes." she responds immediately.

He brings his right hand up and rubs three fingers against his lips as he considers her request. "Rick." he answers eventually, his hand dropping from his face.

The corner of her lips curl slightly as she nods at him in greeting. "Rick." she repeats. "I'm Elisha."

He acknowledges her nod with his own one before turning his back on her and once again heading towards the woods. "Watch your back out there, Elisha."

She waits until his figure disappears between the pine trees before letting a frown scrunch up her features. "You too, Rick."


	2. A old man, a dog, and a boy

It was the loneliness that affects her the most, Elisha thinks to herself as she walks down the abandoned street.

She has gotten used to killing the Infected. She barely blinks when she sees a dead body rotting into the earth. She even manages to hold back the tears when she spots an Infected child.

But the silence seems to ring in her ears every time she bunkers down for the night in whatever fairly safe building she'd managed to break into.

There's no car engines, no TV's playing, no muffled conversations, or footsteps, or the sound of plumbing or neighbours banging; all sounds she'd gotten used to hearing in her old flat.

_You're all alone_ , it feels like the silence is taunting.

Not that she needed reminding; the last person she had spoken to was Rick (her dreams about him didn't count) and that had to be a month or two ago now.

Elisha sighs heavily before glancing around. Houses surrounded her. Almost everyone of them had a broken window or door, either from the Infected's forced entry or people deciding to loot.

At the end of the road were local shops, which was where she was heading. She found that big town centres or large food stores were almost always empty, and a waste of time because in the beginning of the end, they were the first place people went to for food and supplies.

Whereas convenience stores and smaller shops often had something of value (and were  _a lot_  less dangerous), even if it was only a forgotten chocolate bar which had fallen behind the shelves, or an flat can of energy drink.

Elisha takes her time as she approaches the convenience store, making sure to drag her feet and give a small, out-of-tune whistle so any Infected would make themselves known at the sound before she entered the store. No way did she want to find herself trapped inside with no other exit.

No Infected had appeared by the time she reaches the shop. She glances up at the cheap, gold sign which was probably falling apart before the world went to shit. It was missing practically all the letters and the blue paint behind it was chipped and cracking.

She then turns her head to the left and notes that the shop next to it was a hairdressers. The shutters were down, and she could probably get them up if she  _really_  wanted to but she highly doubted there was anything of value inside.

On the pavement by the entrance was a large, brown smear. She recognises the colour as old blood, having washed it out of her clothes more times than she cares to count.

To the right side of the convenience store was some kind of betting shop which also had it's shutters down, the only difference being the several smeared, brown hand-prints which decorated the metal.

She guessed that someone, most likely the owner, had locked himself in the store and unless it had a back exit, they most likely never came out again. The bloody marks were probably where the Infected had heard, or smelt, the occupiers and attempted to enter the building until they were drawn off by something more interesting.

Just past the betting shop was a small park. The red, metal fences with gaps was rusted and a dead, male body stained with blood and dressed in torn clothes laid on the merry-go-round. It was a gruesome sight but she was thankful it wasn't a child.

Licking her dry lips, she turns back to the convenience store. Unlike the other two shops, the shutters were tucked away above the window, allowing her to assess to the glass. It was dirty, so dirty she couldn't see into the shop itself.

So she spat onto the sleeve of her black jacket before using the area of damp material to try and wipe away some of the grime. She didn't really want to get dirty but she knew it was a small price to pay in order to see what she was about to walk into.

When she manages to make a small, clean spot, she attempts to peer inside. The shop was dark and dim thanks to the dirty glass blocking most of the light from outside, and it probably didn't help that the sun was hiding behind black threatening clouds, but she was able to see enough to know that it wasn't crowded by Infected and the four, waist-height shelves had a few items on them. It was all she needed to know.

Subconsciously, she bites the corner of her bottom lip as she steps away from the large window and approaches the glass door which stood next to it. Elisha reaches her hand out and flattens her palm against the large sticker, next to the handle, which she can just about tell says ' _Push'._

Placing a small amount of weight onto the door, it eventually gives way, much to her surprise and luck. Nothing ever seemed so easy any more.

The thick morbid smell of rotten flesh hit her senses instantly and she quickly pulled the collar of her once-white-now-questionable, long-sleeved shirt over her nose with a grimace. It was a stench she knew, and came across daily, but accumulating in the space of the small shop for who knows how long, it was so strong she could almost taste it.

At least it told her that there was a body or Infected within the store.

Her shirt offers little help in filtering the stench but she uses the fingers on her left hand to keep it pressed against her nose anyway. Her right hand goes to the back of her Jeans where she keeps her weapon and pulls it out.

The hammer is heavy in her grasp, heavier than the long piece of metal she used to have before Rick forgot (or maybe he did it on purpose) to give it back to her. She hadn't realised that he'd walked away with it before it was too late, leaving her no option but to head back to the closest location she knew of which had a weapon.

And unluckily for the passed out drunk guy who thought she'd stole his tinned peas, it just so happened to be his hammer. She tried not to feel guilty about leaving him pretty much defenceless so she told herself it was probably for the best anyway; someone as unstable as him shouldn't have anything he could use to harm someone (living) with, like he'd tried to do her.

Elisha's fingers grip the handle firmly as she steps into the shop and lets the door fall closed behind her with a small click.

There are four shelves in front of her just a bit higher than her waist. Now that she was standing closer, she can see that the items left behind are a mixture of energy drinks and chocolate bars. Perfect for keeping her alert.

Although she would only use the energy drinks when she  _really_  needed to. While they were great at keeping her awake when she needed to be, the crash which followed wasn't exactly... ideal.

She reluctantly removes her hand from her nose so she can grab her bag off of her back and tuck the hammer into the back of her pants. The movement causes the fabric from her shirt to slid back down into place and the smell seemed thicker in her nostrils now that it wasn't filtered by the material. Apparently it had been helping more than she'd thought.

Taking a deep breath, she tries not to gag at the morbid scent before holding her breath and shoving the items she found into her bag. Once she was finished, a small box of tissues and something bulky which looks like a huge bag of pasta catches her eye on the shelf two rows ahead of her, the one closest and opposite the register

Her eyes brighten up at the thought of having  _tissues_  even if it was only a box. Yes! For the next week at the least she wouldn't have to wipe her ass on leafs, or when she'd grown  _really_ desperate, old clothes(whoever said the apocalypse was glamorous?).

And not only tissues, but pasta too! Carbohydrates and protein! She couldn't wait to mix it with the tin of beans she had in her bag. It would be her first decent meal in what felt like forever.

With her mouth watering, she practically danced towards the isle but as soon as she turned the corner and had a clear view of the floor between the two shelves, she stepped back with a sharp gasp.

What used to be a man but was now a decaying corpse laid slumped against the floor with his back against the shelf. Blood soaked his grey, balding head where she spotted an obvious, large gun wound which had left a gaping hole. On the floor in front of him was a shotgun. It became clear to her that he'd killed himself.

But that wasn't what upset her; it may sound cold but she'd long detached herself from the feeling of distress whenever she passed a dead body. It was an everyday thing now. Like walking past a lamp post.

But since this whole thing had started, she hadn't come across any dead animals, so she hadn't grown immune to seeing them in such a state like she had with humans. Which was exactly why her guts felt as if they were trying to crawl out of her throat as she gazed upon the dead mess of blood and brown fur on the floor next to the man.

She thinks it looks like a dog but the disaster which was once it's head made it hard to tell. She guesses that the man took his pet's life before taking his own.

With the mixture of colours in it's fur, and the size of it as it half-laid on it's owners lap, it was a German Shepherd. The poor thing reminded her of her own dog which had gotten lost in the beginning and she found herself attempting to hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry," she felt the need to say. Both of them were old, she could tell from the grey within both of their hairs, and the owner had more than likely done it out of mercy for them both.

The world was such a cruel place.

As much as she wants to leave this place and let them rest in peace, she really needed the items on the shelf which lay on the top of the display. Instead of disrespecting their bodies and attempting to climb over them to get to the objects, she decides to head around the shelf and grab it from the other side.

Her legs feel a lot more weaker than they did when she first entered the shop and she tries her hardest to stop the shaking of her hands. The pasta barely fits in her bag but she forces it in until her fingers hurt with the strain. To save room, she chucks away the box and shoves the tissues into a small pocket on the side of her bag.

The new weight in her bag is heavier than she's used to and she hopes that it won't cause her any back pain. Elisha really didn't need that showing her down if she needed to make a run for it.

She keeps her eyes on the ground as she passes the bodies once again and heads for the door. Her fingers lightly grip the sliver handle as she examines the shop one last time, just in case she managed to miss anything but all she can see are magazines, cigarettes and travel shaving kits.

She pondered for a moment whether or not she should grab one. Shaving had been the last thing on her mind and her legs, armpits, and lady garden were currently so hairy that she'd forgotten she was even a lady.

At least it had added extra warmth for the winter though.

Her fingers tap against the handle before she finally gives in and makes her decision. It wouldn't hurt, so why not? She could tell it was getting hotter and hotter so maybe she'd even find a nice pair of shorts to wear. Make herself feel more normal and feminine.

So she heads over to the tall shelves which stood against the right wall and picked one up. It came in a small blue bag and was obviously for men but that didn't matter to her. She rips off the price tag and lets it drop to the floor as she finally heads out of the shop.

Elisha doesn't really pay attention to her surroundings as she unzips the bag in an attempt to examine the contents. That was her first mistake.

She parts the blue material of the bag and spots a rechargeable battery next to a electric shaver. She hopes that it already has charge in it or she might as well as throw it away. The only way to charge it would be with portable charger which she can just about see underneath the items but she didn't even know how to start a car let alone drive, so that was that completely unhelpful to her.

"Don't move," demands a boyish voice behind her, soon followed by the sound of a gun being cocked next to her ear.

Elisha froze, her heart jumping into her throat. She suddenly regrets going back for the damn shaver. If she had never picked it up, she wouldn't of distracted herself, and now she was being held at gun point thanks to the girly part of her which longed for smooth legs again.

"...Crap." she breaths.

"Put that down and turn around. Now," he orders her and she can't help but frown when she hears him speak again. Just how old is this kid? It doesn't even sound as if he's voice has broken yet.

"It's okay, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you with my shaver," she attempts to joke as she slowly leans down and places the bag on the floor.

"Shut up," he snarls, "Now turn around."

She does as she's told and turns to face the kid who managed to sneak up on her while she was distracted with her new toy. As soon as she has a clear view of him, her eyes widen in shock, "My god."

Elisha wasn't expecting  _that_.

 


	3. An innocent life in a corrupt world

It wasn't the kid himself that caused her to gasp. It wasn't the fact that he had to only be fourteen or fifteen years old. It wasn't the gun he was aiming straight between her eyes, or the amount of anger he held in his young – yet somehow  _so old_  – blue iris's.

No, it was what he was holding. Or more especially, what he had strapped to the front of his chest. The little limbs kicked out, brushing against the older kids body as the little one cooed and mumbled so fucking innocently – too innocently for this world – that it broke Elisha's heart into pieces.

 _A fucking toddler. A motherfucking baby_. Elisha had to blink twice just to make sure she wasn't saying things. How the hell did this world have babies?  _Who_  would have a baby? It obviously wasn't this kids since he was a boy. Maybe his Mom fell pregnant and left them both? Could the Mom have died? Unless this kid managed to get his girlfriend up the duff?

"I'm not going to hurt you," Elisha suddenly felt so goddamn serious. More serious than she had ever felt in her entire life. It wasn't right. Two kids being out here on their own.  _Were_  they on their own? Maybe she was being set up. If she was, the people were fucking sick for putting the kids in danger like this. "I'm not like that."

He ignores her, "You have any weapons?"

She nods and gulps, wondering whether she should be afraid of him or if it was all an act, "Yes."

His eyes harden immediately, "Give them over."

She reaches behind herself and grips the handle of her hammer before pulling it free. He watches her closely, eyes narrowing as she passes the weapon over to him. Once it's in his grasp, he places it in the back of his own pants.

His nostrils flared, long dark brown bangs fell in front of his eyes but not once did his expression change, "Give me your bag."

For a moment her mind flashed back to that handsome, sexy man who had said the same thing to her not that long ago. She wasn't as intimidated this time though. "What do you need it for, kid?"

"I'm not a  _kid,_ " he spat angrily, the hand holding his gun shaking. "I'm out here on  _my own_! Have been for  _months_! Looking after my baby sister, so  _don't go_  telling me I'm a  _kid_! 'Cause I _ain't_ , lady!"

She blew out a breath, knowing she'd just hit a nerve without meaning too. "Okay, I'm sorry, okay? Just calm down," she spoke softly, making sure she was staring straight into his eyes so he'd see how truthful she was being, "You've been through a lot. I get it. Christ," she can't begin to imagine what this poor guy had been through. How the fuck has he been taking care of himself and a baby? "I wanna help you, okay? Tell me how I can help."

She was practically begging him, the mothering instinct in her telling her to do  _something_. Her conscience wouldn't let him walk away without her doing everything she could.

He falters for a moment, letting her know she must have said something right, "You...you have any food?" he tries to keep his voice steady but she can hear how hopeful he sounds and it breaks her heart all over again.

"Yeah," she nods with a friendly smile, "I've got food. Got tinned peaches, beans, and some other stuff," she gestures to the store she was just in, "Found some pasta in there not too long ago. That good to you?"

He seems to consider this before he eventually nods, "Yeah, you're coming with me though."

"Why?" she questions curiously. Elisha would be more than happy to give the food over and let them be on their way. Although she knows she'd always be curious about them and more than likely worried that they were okay but if this kid didn't want company, it's not like she could force him to stay with her. Especially not with that gun pointed at her face.

He looks a tad sheepish as he admits: "I don't know how to cook pasta."

She goes to laugh but the look his shoots her immediately makes her hold it in. It wasn't worth being shot for. "Okay, but you got a place we can go to? Pots and pans?"

He nods, "Yeah, I'll take you there, but first, you give me your bag," he bargains, holding his hand out towards her.

She gives her bag over, knowing that he was being cautious and there was a part of her which was praising him for being so smart.

Suddenly, he looks a little shy and his cheeks go a little red. He gestures with his gun to her mid-drift, "Show me, uh, that you've not got anymore weapons," he looks so young all of a sudden, so embarrassed that she can't help but chuckle.

Biting back a smile, she lifts her jacket up slightly so he can see she hasn't got anything tucked into the waistband of her pants and does a quick twirl. Elisha loves her baggy jacket and understood that it looks as if it could hide a lot, which was why she doesn't blame him for being careful.

When she's facing him once more, she says, "We good?"

He nods, looking more relaxed than he did before. The gun he was holding was no longer in her face but his finger remained on the trigger. "I gotta blindfold you."

She quirks an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of it  _at all,_  "Why?" she questions him suspiciously.

"So you don't know where we're staying," he tells her in a 'duh' tone.

Elisha starts to wonder if she jumped in head first, something she had a habit of doing. While she considered that this could have been a act and he had a group waiting somewhere, her worry had overclouded her judgement.

She swallows her nerves back, "Maybe...maybe this isn't a good idea."

He narrows his eyes at her, "Why not?"

"Because how do I know I can trust  _you_?" she points out. There was no point in lying to the kid – he was extremely wise for his age and would probably have noticed if she had.

He seems to consider this for a moment before he gives in, "Fine. We won't be staying there much longer anyway," he says before he gestures down the street, "You walk ahead of me. I'll tell you when to stop."

It wasn't a nice feeling knowing that someone had a gun at your back and could shoot you at any moment. It made her nervous and she suddenly regretted being such a god-damn softy. She wished she could be a hardened bitch for once. Since she was feeling so on edge, she did the thing she always found herself doing – rambling.

"So, ki-" No, Elisha, now is not the time to accidentally call him 'kid' again. "Uh, young man," she catches herself. Behind her, he rolls his eyes as she continues, "What's your name?"

He doesn't answer straight away and it makes her wonder if he's choosing to ignore her instead but then he eventually answers with a softer voice:

"Carl," he tells her, "Carl Grimes."

 _Carl Grimes_ , she thinks to herself,  _strong name._

"It's nice to meet you," she replies with a soft smile which she throws over her shoulder at him just as they pass the first house. It was the same street she'd walked down when she was heading to the convenience store, and it occurs to her that if he'd shacked up in one of the houses, he'd probably been watching her the entire time. "My names Elisha Marie Jackson."

"Elisha Marie," he mumbles behind her, "That's a nice name."

Her heart melts at the innocence which is slipping through, probably without him even realising. It just showed to her that no matter what he says, he's still a kid and he shouldn't be out here on his own. She wondered where his parents were; where the baby's parents were and why the hell he was left looking after himself and the babe on his own.

"Thanks," she says in response, "I like yours too." she bits her lip as she considers asking for the baby's name. Would he mind? They pass another two houses and then she finally gets the courage to ask him, "What about the kid?" she glances over her shoulder one more as Carl brings them to a stop.

She turns and realises that he's examining her. Perhaps seeing whether she's worthy of knowing the youngsters name. Two heartbeats later and he comes to his decision, "Judith Grimes."

She gives him a comforting smile, "She's a beautiful baby."

Carl suddenly gets a stressed look on his features. "She's everything," he admits quietly, staring down at the baby which had fallen asleep against his chest, "She's really smart. Doesn't cry when Walkers are around. It's like she knows she needs to be quiet."

"That's good. Really good."

"Yeah," Carl agrees, looking more troubled that she'd ever seen a fourteen year old look before. "But it's still hard. I'm trying to keep her safe but..." he looks as if he's about to cry and Elisha wants to pull him into her arms but isn't sure it would a good idea. "She's my little sister, I need to keep her safe, but I don't know if I can."

"You said you've been on your own for months," she reminds him softly, "Seems to me like you're doing a hell of a job."

He perks up a little at that, as if hearing that he'd done a good job was the reassurance he had needed; a confidence boost. "Thanks," he tells her quietly before gesturing to the house that they'd stopped in front of. "This is it."

Elisha glances over to the building and immediately scolds herself for not spotting it before – it was the only house in the street which actually looked as if it was secure. Had she seen it, she definitely would have raided it for supplies.

Or maybe it was fate that she didn't see it as Carl could have very well shot her if she'd attempted to get inside of it. Not that she could have blamed him.

"Nice set up," she comments with an approving smile, "You've done good for her, Carl," she wants to gain his trust, let him know that he can trust her too, and then maybe, they'd be able to stick together and she could look after him, and help him look after his little sister because god knows her heart and her head won't allow her to walk away now.

Carl looks a little shy at all the praise but seems to stand a little taller as he gestures to the house. "Ladies first."

* * *

The house wasn't exactly a palace but for the era of the walking dead, it may as well have been. The previous occupants must have taken almost every precaution they could think of, making Elisha wonder why the hell they'd bother to leave.

The windows were barricaded with planks of wood nailed to the window frame followed by a large bookshelf which almost covered the wall, and in front of that sat a bulky 'L' shaped sofa.

The front door was heavy to push open – even Elisha had struggled to hold it open so she had no idea how Carl had managed it. She wasn't sure what it was made of to make it so heavy because to her, it looked and felt like normal wood. Maybe it was just stiff from rusting at the hinges or something. As a bonus, it had no windows, which meant no Walkers would be smashing through.

The rest of the downstairs windows were in the same state; boarded up with pieces of furniture to secure them even more. If Walkers were to try and get in, Elisha imagined it would take them awhile. If anything, it would give them enough time to escape through the upstairs windows which she assumed weren't boarded up for that exact reason.

So she  _still_  couldn't understand why the hell, whoever went through all this effort, would just  _leave_. Unless they thought they'd found somewhere safer but what could be safer than this place? You had a clear view of the street both ways at the front of the house and the back of the house had a garden which broke off onto a huge field, perfect for a quick get away, especially if you knew how to drive and parked a car back there.

Maybe a herd had come past at some point? Although the street didn't look as if that had been the case.

Elisha must have been standing in the livingroom for longer than she thought with a frown on her face as she tried to work through her troubled thoughts because suddenly Carl was questioning her.

"Elisha, are you okay?" the way he sounded wasn't exactly concern, maybe a  _bit_  of worry and curiousity, but not concern.

"Sorry," she tells him, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, "Just...I can't work out why this place was abandoned. It seems so secure."

"Yeah," It was Carl's turn to frown, "I couldn't work it out either. I mean, I only found it last night and so far everything's been great. I haven't even seen a Walker since I got here."

That sparks her interest, "Really?" she knew something was up with this place when she first arrived but she hadn't been able to put her finger on it - now she was sure that she'd just found out why;  _there's no Walkers. Not even one._

"Yeah," Carl nods. He'd placed her bag on the floor by his feet and still held his gun in his hand, although it was hanging down by his side. His spare hand was resting on Judith's back in a protective manner. "I couldn't figure it out either but didn't wanna question it. Seems too good to be true, you know?"

 _If something's too good to be true then it probably is_ , the words entered her head, sending alarm bells ringing. She really didn't like this, and the more she thought about it, the more her body filled with dread.

"What do you say we get something down you and then we get the hell out of here?" she suggests, hoping that he'd say yes because she really wanted to leave and there was no way in hell the maternal instincts in her could leave them behind, not when she had such a bad feeling about this place all of a sudden.

Carl suddenly looks alarmed, the hand on his little sisters back pulling her closer. "Why'd you wanna leave so bad?"

Elisha didn't want to scare him but knew that if she didn't give him an explanation, he more than likely wouldn't trust her enough to leave. "This house, Carl...this place..." she gestures around her, "There's not  _one_  Walker in sight. That doesn't happen. And this house? Why on earth would they leave a place like this? It's  _untouched_ ," she points out to him, her heart racing and goosebumps forming, "So if Walker's didn't attack...What made them leave?"


	4. Humans are the real monsters

Carl was the one who made them a fire. He wanted to help Elisha with the dinner but since he couldn't cook the pasta, he showed off his fire-making skills instead.

She has to admit that she's impressed with the kid. The only reason she'd ever managed to make a fire was thanks to the various amount of lighters she'd come across on runs. Carl, however, went old school and did some shit with some twigs he'd gathered before he'd met her and some newspaper he'd found sitting around the house.

He's a very resourceful kid, she was starting to realise, and Judith was a very lucky girl having such a smart older brother looking after her. Elisha couldn't imagine that Judith would be in better hands but she still couldn't help but wonder how it ended up that way.

The question was on the tip of her tongue but the poor kid was just starting to look comfortable around her and she didn't want to do – or say – anything that could change that right now.

They managed to find some pots in the kitchen and using some bottled water, they boiled the pasta until it swelled and softened. Elisha made sure it was extra soft because of Judith eating. She didn't know a whole lot about babies but she figured that Judith was around a year and a half old, and since they didn't have any of that baby milk powdery stuff, the pasta would have to make do. It was better than nothing, right?

Speaking of Judith – the little girl was no longer strapped to her brothers chest with that... _thing_ (Elisha did mention that she didn't know a lot about kids, didn't she?) and was currently sitting on the big double bed they'd pushed against the wall. Carl was sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping on eye on her as she made noises and bounced on the springy mattress while remaining seated.

It made Elisha smile how protective Carl was of her. Every time she attempted to stand up, Carl scolded her softly and told her to sit back down in case she fell. It was very cute.

The reason the bed had been pushed against the wall was so it was no where near the fire they'd created which sat on the other side of the room, near the opened window. With all the windows secure downstairs, Elisha thought it was best to move upstairs so they could open the window and not die from inhaling too much smoke.

Once the pasta was cooked, Elisha drained the water and added beans before serving the meal up on the plates they'd also found in the kitchen. It was just a nice as she'd thought it would be and from Carl's hums and Judith's squeals, they both agreed.

Elisha was the first to finish eating so she made it her job to put the fire out. The flames had just died when she noticed how dark it was getting outside. They must have lost track of time which meant there would be no leaving tonight. It was too dangerous to travel in the dark.

"Looks like we're staying the night," Elisha mumbles to Carl while she stands by the window, watching as the sky seemed to blacken before her eyes. She glances over at the kids on the bed. "I'll stay downstairs if you want."  _because I sure as hell ain't leaving you in this house on your own. Not with this bad feeling I got going in my gut._

Carl looks unsure and Elisha doesn't blame him – while they'd shared a few smiles and laughs, he still wasn't sure if he could trust her yet. "It's okay," he tells her eventually. "You can stay in here with us. I'm gonna take watch anyway."

That shocks her, most likely because she keeps forgetting that while he's a kid, he has the traits of an adult, too. "Right," she says because really, that's all she can think of. It's not her place to tell him 'no'. She's not his Mom. "Okay."

"You're sleeping on the floor though," he informs hers after a moment. "No offence but I don't want a stranger sharing the bed with my sister."

She doesn't take offence to that at all. In fact she smiles because he's so damn adorable and probably the best big brother she'd ever met. "I understand completely." she replies.

* * *

Elisha ends up sleeping next to the wall, on the floor covered by a blanket with a different blanket on top of her – one's they'd manage to find in the bedroom next to this one.

And while she thought it  _should_  probably be the best sleep she's had in ages - with Carl taking watch, for once she doesn't have to worry about anyone sneaking up on her – it's the complete opposite.

She just can't shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen and it's to do with the lack of Walkers, and the big blank she keeps drawing up every time she tries to think of  _why_ someone would left such a well protected house.

So after how many hours of tossing and turning, she ends up blowing her bangs out of her face with a heavy sigh – it was no use. Sleep wasn't going to come. Throwing the blanket off of her, she grabs her hammer off of the floor and stands up.

"Where you going?" Carl questions curiously, maybe a bit wearily since she'd just woken up and grabbed her weapon without a warning.

"Gonna scout the street." she replies, turning in his direction as she reaches the door to the bedroom. Candles flicker, allowing her to make out his face."I just...have this feeling." her eyes glance over to the bed where baby Judith lays flat on her back, spread out, covers kicked off and breathing peacefully.

Carl frowns at that. "You think something's out there? I haven't seen anything." as if to prove his point, he takes a good look out the window again.

"I don't know." Elisha says with slight frustration at herself. She wished the feeling would just go away already – it was probably paranoia anyway. "I just-" her words are cut off by Carl.

"There's someone out there!" he exclaims in a whisper, ducking slightly out of the way of the window in a attempt to make himself less visible to them. "Wait, there's more than one. I count three. At the end of the street."

Elisha's heart skips a beat. "Walkers?" she asks with a hopeful tone. Really, she knew that if it was Walkers, he would have said  _'Walkers'_  but she could hope - three Walkers were a lot easier to deal with than three humans.

"No,  _people,_ " his voice hardens and it was that moment that she knew that Carl had also had his fair share of bad experience with humans. He sends a glare her way. "You know, it's kinda funny. We haven't seen any  _living_  people since we ran away and then we find you, and now three more? Seems fishy to me."

For a moment, she doesn't hear the accusing tone. The only thing she hears is  _'since we ran away'._  That was it right there – her question answered. She thought she'd be satisfied but it only caused her curiosity to grow further. Why had they ran away? Were they being chased by someone? Possibly in trouble? Did they need help?

And then she remembers what Carl said and her eyes widen. "I swear, Carl, I have nothing to do with this," her mouth suddenly goes dry. Would he believe her? "I was the one who wanted to leave this place, remember? I told you I had a bad feeling."

He still looked unsure.

"Look, it doesn't matter right now okay? What matters is getting you and Judith out of here.  _Alive,_ " she tells him, taking charge of the situation. She walks over to the windows and peeks outside, seeing that the men were now on their way down the street; around fives houses away from them. "We need to get our stuff and try and sneak out of the back. Climb over the fence and make a run for it, understand?" she says, turning to him and staring him straight in the eye to let him know just how serious she was.

He considers her plan before nodding and heading towards Judith, "I'll wake her up. She gets pretty cranky."

"Okay," Elisha nods before taking a deep breath. It wasn't the first time she'd been in this kind of situation but it  _was_  the first time she was responsible for two young lives. Hell, it was the first time since this started that she was responsible for  _anyone_.

Her family and friends had died pretty much as soon as the virus hit(Well, except her Mom but that's a can of worms she doesn't want opening) and she'd been on her own ever since. It's not like she didn't want to have a group - a mixed-and-matched family brought together by the end of the world – she just never found the right people. The only ones she came across were only ever after her supplies or more worryingly, her body. So she stayed on her own.

Until now anyway.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, her hands were shaking and she tried desperately to calm herself. She needed a clear head. She needed to get these kids to safety.

Quick as she could, she grabbed hold of their items and shoved them into bags, not paying attention to what she put in her bag or what she put in Carl's – as long as it came with them it didn't matter. Although she had to admit, it would be pretty embarrassing if she accidentally shoved her tampons in Carl's bag. The look on his face would be priceless, she bet.

Elisha could hear Judith mumble frustratingly at being disturbed and she could also hear Carl desperately trying to calm her so she didn't start making a lot of noise.

"We're ready, Elisha," Carl informs her from behind as she packs the last item in the bags and zips them up. She then throws both the bags onto her back before heading towards the window in an attempt to spot the men. Judith continues to make a small fuss but like Carl said, she didn't cry.

"Fuck," Elisha breaths, her heart coming to a stop. The men were just outside of the house and were heading straight for it. How the hell they knew someone was here, she didn't know but she had a distinct feeling that these men might be why the last occupants weren't around anymore.

Especially if the guns they held were any indication.

"Go, go, go," she tells Carl quietly as they rush out of the room and head towards the stairs. The house was still boarded up which worked to their advantage; by the time the men managed to get in, they'd be long gone.

That was the plan anyway but of course, nothing  _ever_ goes to plan and as soon as they were two steps down the stairs, there was a rattling sound and then moonlight hit the floor as the door was pushed open.

Elisha hadn't considered that the men might have had a key.

She immediately turns around and was ready to tell Carl to go back up but he'd already seen and was rushing back up the stairs. He went to head into the room they'd camped in but Elisha grabbed him and pulled him into the room next to it and shut the door as quietly as she could.

Unfortunately, it was the only room in the house they hadn't placed candles in but luckily, the moon lit it up enough for her to see the windows and the outline of Carl.

"What are we doing in here?" Carl questions with confusion. He was breathing heavy, one hand cradling Judith to his chest -Elisha only just noticed that Carl had placed her back into that chest thing – while the other gripped his gun.

"This room overlooks the garden," she tells him, heading over to the window. She doesn't hesitate to push it open. There was nothing under the window which could help them but just to the left of the house, was a shed. If she dangled from the window, and leaned to the left, she'd be able to place her feet onto it. Carl would be able to do the same but not while holding Judith. "Carl come here."

Footsteps and murmurs could be heard from downstairs as Carl heads over to her.

"You see that?" she asks him; he nods. "I need you to dangle down and climb onto it. Then I'll pass you Judith," she tells him and from the look on his face, he really didn't like the idea. "It's the only way, Carl. I'm sure as hell not leaving you up here to deal with them if there's not enough time for-" she breaks off there, not wanting to think about what might happen if there's not enough time for  _the both of them to get out_.

"Fuck," he spits out angrily as he removes Judith from his chest. He swallows thickly as he stares at her before placing a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Judy," he tells her before handing her off to Elisha. "If anything happens to her-" his voice is tight and Elisha knows exactly what he means.

"It  _won't_ , Carl, but you need to go  _now,_ " she tells him and then he doesn't need to be told again. She watches him for a moment, bouncing baby Judith in her arms as she starts to fuss once again. "Hold on, Judy," she tries to calm the girl.

As Carl climbs out of the window, she spots a chair sitting in front of a dresser and walks over to it before dragging it towards the bedroom door using the hand that wasn't cradling Judith. She places it underneath the handle like she's seen in a few films; it slots in perfectly but she has no idea if it will work or not.

Then she heads over to the window since she can no longer see Carl. When she reaches it, she looks down and notices him dangling from the frame, his feet attempting to find the top of the shed which sat just off to the side. It takes two attempts but then he's standing on it and finding his feet.

His hand pushes his bangs back before he's holding his hands up to Elisha.

Elisha swallows thickly. It feels  _so_  fucking wrong holding Judith out of the window but there was no other choice, especially with those footsteps which were slowly making their way up the stairs.

Her grip is tight on Judith and then so is Carl's as his fingers find Judith's side and Judith, having no any idea of the situation is suddenly finding the whole thing hilarious. She squeals and kicks her feet as Carl brings her back to his chest and straps her in.

"C'mon, Elisha," Carl calls up to her quietly.

"Where the hell have they gone?" One man grumbles.

"Only one room left, men," Another says.

"Hope that bitch is still with 'em. Wouldn't mind a bit of her," The first man speaks again.

"Get behind me you, horny ass. I called 'er  _first,_ " A new voice tells his friend.

Elisha can hear them right outside of the door and knows that there isn't going to be enough time. By the time she would be out of the window, they'd be in the room, and by the time they were running, the men would already be shooting bullets into their backs.

If Elisha had known these kids would be the death of her, would she still have helped them?

Of course she fucking would. It was a stupid question really.

She knew the only way Carl and Judith were going to get to safety was if she stayed behind to distract the men, and before she could really think about it, she was pulling the bags off of her back and chucking them out of the window. They landed next to Carl.

"What are you doing?" Carl questions her harshly.

"Carl you need to-" Elisha tells him, blinking back the tears. "You need to  _run,"_ The men were trying to get in now, the door rattling violently; they sounded angry at discovering the barricaded door.

Carl looks shocked. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm going to distract them. If I don't, they'll see us running and gun us down. They'll  _kill_  us Carl.  _Kill_ Judith. You understand?" she doesn't wait for him to nod, all she could see was that he _wasn't_ moving yet. "Just  _go_."

Carl suddenly has this guilty look on his face like he felt bad for ever doubting her. "There's a gas station just outside of town. We'll wait for you there," he tells her before flinging the bags onto his back and making his way to the edge of the shed.

Elisha watches as he jumps down and heads for the broken fence before running across the field. She was right; the men would have easily been able to shoot them down if she was here to distract them.

She only hoped she was going to be able to distract them long enough for Carl and Judith to get to safety. And she also hoped that she'd live to meet Carl and Judith at that gas station.

Her eyes close when she hears the door finally give way and she gulps before whispering, "Dear God save me."

"Oh honey," a deep, menacing voice says behind her, sounding slightly out of breath, "God can't save you now."


End file.
